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Bechamel Sauce (recipe)

Bechamel is the primordial cream sauce, and the cornerstone of any great cook's repertoire. Being so basic, there are countless variations — there are chicken-based bechamels, Italian bechamels (besciamella), Greek versions (saltsa bechamel), and countless American twists and bastardizations. And being so basic, you'd think it's an easy sauce to make — and it is, and isn't. Making the basic bechamel is easy to get the hang of, but making a divine bechamel — one that is fragrant, rich and seductive.

I am by no means proposing that the recipe below fulfills those requirements, but it takes you on the first step — this is the basic bechamel, upon which greater and lovelier sauces may be built.

Ingredients

- 1/2 cup heavy cream

- 1 1/2 cups good milk (the fresher, the better)

- about 3 or 4 tbsp butter

- about 6 tbsp fine white flour (without baking soda in it)

- dash of salt

- dash of fresh-ground pepper

- dash of fresh-ground nutmeg

rnIn a sauce pan large enough for all the ingredients, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the flour and lightly brown, taking care not to burn it. Add the milk in a slow, steady stream, stirring vigorously and constantly to avoid lumps; if lumps form, don't panic — just stop adding milk and stir the sauce until the lumps dissolve. Once all the milk is added, keep stirring and add the cream and seasonings, then give the sauce a few vigorous whisks to make sure everything is well-combined. Cook over low to medium heat until sauce is thickened. If the sauce is too thick, add a little more milk and heat through; if the sauce is too thin, make a beurre manie by mashing together 1 tablespoon each butter and flour, or simply by rolling a tablespoon of butter in flour and tossing it in. If you have to thicken the sauce in this fashion, wait until it's almost done and remove it from heat as soon as it's thick enough; otherwise the sauce will have a pasty flour taste.

I'll post some good bechamel recipes and variations soon.

rn

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here

I have watched all of this aftermath unfold in insular Fargo, North Dakota, and one question burns me — why doesn't anyone seem afraid? It is as if six thousand people were exterminated in a movie. Life continues without pause here, without so much as a whimper.

I do notice small things, though, slight changes, odd parallels and dynamics. More people holding hands than I remember, the bars a little more full. I imagine the maternity wards will be at capacity a few months from now.

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Cheesecake Romana (or cheesecake Sambuca)

This is a tasty variation on the standard cheesecake, and it is my understanding that this is close to the way Romans made cheesecakes. You didn't know Romans made cheesecakes? Of course they did. Cheese, in fact, has an illustrious history; Greek athletes training for the Olympics were fed a diet rich with cheese, and small cheesecakes were often given as gifts in Rome.

Traditionally, this recipe calls for Italian ricotta, which is firmer and less moist than ricotta commercially available in America. This variation uses farmer cheese and typical ricotta to imitate the texture — any soft, dry white cheese will do the trick (cream cheese is a little too moist, so you know).

Dough:
- 2 or 3 cups all-purpose flour

- 1/2-3/4 cup white sugar

- 1 stick (1/4 lb) unsalted butter

- ice water

- salt

- 2 large eggs, beaten

The Cheese:

- 1 15 oz. package ricotta

- about 7 or 8 oz. farmer cheese, grated or diced (2 parts ricotta to 1 part farmer)

- 1 or 2 tablespoons flour

- 1 lightly beaten egg

- finely diced orange peel (candied is by far the best)

- about 1/2 cup toasted pine nuts

- 1/4 cup Sambuca

- 1 cup dried cherries

- egg wash<

I imagine pastry dough is much easier to make in a food processor, but I have no idea how to do it. This is how to do it by hand — take the butter out of the refrigerator about 5 or 10 minutes prior to use (it should be a little warmer than refrigerator temperature, but not super-soft). Cut the butter into small cubes — you'll probably end up with about 16 small pats. Heap the flour on a clean, dry surface and sprinkle the butter on top. Take a butter knife (any knife, really) in each hand and slice across the flour in opposing directions, almost as if you're dicing it. The goal is to cut the butter into smaller and smaller pieces and blend it with the flour. When the butter and flour are fairly well combined (it should have a sort of flaky texture), add the eggs and ice water and combine carefully. Fold the dough in half and press down to flatten. Fold it into quarters and press down again (be careful not to overwork the dough). Roll the dough into a ball and refrigerate for a few minutes.

First, pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees.

Take about two-thirds of the dough and roll it out with a floured rolling pin into a circle large enough to cover the bottom and sides of your favorite 9 inch cake pan. Press the dough into the pan, making sure all surfaces are covered. Take the remaining dough and roll it out into a 10 inch circle. Cut the dough into 8 or 10 strips for a lattice crust.

In a large bowl, combine the cheeses. (A mixer is really best for this process, but again, I do everything by hand.) Add the sugar, flour, Sambuca and egg and mix with a fork and a spatula until well-blended. Fold in cherries, pine nuts and orange peel and scoop into the cake pan. Top with your best lattice crust. Paint the lattice with the egg wash for that gleaming professional pastry chef look.

Place cake pan on a baking sheet on the middle rack of the oven, and bake for about an hour. It's done when the filling has set and the crust is golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow it to set until it's cooled thoroughly (several hours is just fine). Carefully unmold cake. For a little color, sprinkle a touch of cinnamon or nutmeg on top before serving.

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Hawk

In a clearing near the river, I found a fallen red-tailed hawk. It looked as though it had slammed face-first into the earth, wings outspread, neck turned at an unnatural angle. The fine down of the underwings trembled a little in the breeze. It was summer.

I returned a week later and found the hawk breathing. It appeared to be be writhing, trying to rise. I poked it with a stick and found its body full of maggots.

A month later, and the hawk's body was a dried-out shell of feathers. This lovely, predatory thing, reduced to a handful of matter substantial as ash. I debated taking part of its tail, but left it be.

Six months, and only bones. There were a few feathers caught in the bare trees, drifting across the patchy snow. It was cloudy, and I wondered if any of the hawk's kin were in flight, hunting.

A year, and nothing. A patch of dirt, some weeds, no trace of the bird. Raptor and rapture, talon and wing, turned to earth. It was summer. The river played along in its old tuneful way, spangled and clean. Something great had fallen from the sky, and the world, in its sleepy way, continued on. I thought of the dead, old loved ones, ancestors. I thought of prophecies and wars, great nations, Rome and Carthage, the burned-out Celts, the Cherokee in their furious lament.

And I thought of you, America.

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huh?

I just took some sort of questionable personality test that labels me a "mastermind" or INTJ. What the hell does this mean? Is this a good thing? Why do I suddenly feel like I've been found out to be the cold-hearted shitty bastard that I secretly know I am?

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