Belgium Month: Spéculoos Spread

George Washington Carver was a bit of a one trick pony. He was a genius, but imagine if his innovations had explored markets other than peanuts. Imagine if, after he invented peanut butter, he looked at other food items and reasoned that they too could be grinded into a paste and eaten on bread. Now imagine he did this with cookies.

Fortunately, George Washington Carver’s one shortcoming has been redeemed by Els Scheppers of Belgium. She concocted a recipe for a smooth spread made from spéculoos cookies (also known as biscoff), entered her recipe on a Belgian reality television show (“De Bedenkers,” or “The Inventors”) and won. Lotus, the major mass distributor of spéculoos, took notice and went into business with Scheppers. As elaborated upon in the New York Times article I used as reference, the paste has been quite successful, resulting in multiple, equally successful imitators.

Americans may be familiar with spéculoos/biscoff cookies as the cookies they sometimes get on airplanes. The flat, cinnamon cookies with crystallized sugar also have their diluted dollar store variety, Dutch windmills. To give full disclosure, I do not find the cookies themselves to be very special; I will continue to eat them when served by flight attendants, but it is highly unlikely I will purchase them for consumption while anchored to earth by gravity. What’s amazing is that the spread, which has a consistency not unlike Nutella and peanut butter, transcends its cookie counterpart. I actually find it difficult to stop eating the spread once I start, a problem I honestly don’t have with most other foods, including desserts. Pictured are two “dead soldiers” that fell victim to my obsessive compulsive spéculoos eating disorder (OCSED).

And, St. Nicholas be praised, the spread is available stateside! The American variety has a slightly less crystally and slightly oilier texture than what I purchased in the Belgium airport. (Actually, I purchased it twice. First at the airport grocery store, but security confiscated my solid food item for being a liquid. Second at the duty free shop, which I visited immediately after having the first jar taken away.) The European variety had a more robust flavor, which I would identify as being somewhere between molasses and that “baked cookie” taste. Both were good enough for me skip the gluten middle man and eat directly from the jar.

Belgian Waffles, Ch. 1: Brussels' Best Deal

Tourist guides for Brussels seem to agree on a few things:
(a) The correct way to eat a Belgian waffle is au naturel—the waffle, not the consumer. Only scoff-worthy tourists top it with chocolate, fruit and whipped cream.
(b) Proper Belgian waffles all taste more or less the same. Just make sure you avoid the rectangular ones.
(c) When it comes to waffle dealers, they are all equal.

Having tasted many waffles during my stay, I agree:
(a) While the toppings were delicious, they completely overpowered the flavor of the waffle. If you want to taste strawberries, go buy strawberries.
(b) They are indeed visually and orally identical, except the rectangular Americanized waffles, which are fluffy instead of chewy.

But I must disagree on the final point. There is a specific waffle dealer tourists should seek out: Waffle Planet by the Manneken Pis, the famous Brussels statue of a small boy urinating. Being that the statue is life-size (Read: small) it is not much to see, but it is worth lingering for the waffles. The waffles are only €1; half the price means you can double your waffle intake.

Belgium Month: Chocolate and Frittes

When I went to Brussels, I had a short checklist: Eat.

Belgium is famous for many delicious treats. I spent my days imbibing in chocolates, frittes and, my favorite, waffles. In between, I marveled at art nouveau and explored museums dedicated to Magritte, contemporary art and musical instruments. And then I went back to eating.

On the streets surrounding La Grand Place, there were literally chocolate shops next door to chocolate shops across the street from chocolate shops. Most of them shoved free samples in my eager face. Nearby was the Musee du Cacao et du Chocolat, which principally consisted of signs telling the history of chocolate from South America to Europe and information I already knew. (See Becoming a Chocolate Connoisseur, Steps 1 , 2 and 3 .) The new information I gathered from my visit consisted of the history of Belgium’s most famous chocolatiers: Godiva, Neuhaus, Côte d’Or, Callebaut and Leonidas. It was Neuhaus Chocolates that premiered the first ever bite-sized chocolates in 1912, “pralines.”

While this particular international trip isn’t one I feel everyone must take, here are my recommendations for chocoholics bound and determined to hit Brussels. It is important to distinguish the legit chocolate from the tourist junk. For starters, the stuff in boxes may be perfectly okay by American standards, but it’s not the good stuff. To taste what Belgium is famous for, cough up the good money for the fresh treats behind the glass. But, even with those items, it is important to recognize the difference between chocolate makers (roasters who affect how the chocolate will taste) and chocolatiers (those who outsource ready-made chocolate for the use in their own concoctions or simply molding the chocolate into shapes). As you walk from shop to shop, you’ll notice some identical products that were clearly outsourced and whose cocoa butter may be cut with vegetable oil. Thank them for their friendly samplings and do the truffle shuffle to the next place.

The frittes, while not dessert items, deserve at least a short paragraph. I learned frittes are called French fries because (1) the person who named them this consumed frittes in Belgium and (2) one of the major languages in Belgium is French. Thus, (3) the conclusion was made that frittes were a French invention. (Makes sense. I first ate gelato in Charleston, SC; I guess the Italians stole the idea.) What gives Belgian frittes their signature texture is that they are twice fried, which also happens to be the best way to cook plantains. After this, the frittes are topped with your choice of sauces with untranslated names.

As for the waffles—THE WAFFLES!—I will need several blog posts to fully record this religious experience.

L’Chai-yum

I have fond memories of standing in the falling snow outside of Big Dipper’s in Missoula, MT. While my dad and I took our time determining which flavors we wanted to try, he asked what cardamom ice cream was.

Cardamom is the dominant spice that makes the smell of chai tea so incredible. (There is no single recipe for chai, so the spices vary. Commonly used are the equally aromatic anise, cinnamon, clove and ginger.) But all tea, including chai, just tastes like hot water to me. I realize this puts me in the minority. Happily, chai has been embraced as a flavor worth exploring in other mediums. I present to you, the best of chai:

1.) Located on Portage Bay between Lake Union and Lake Washington, Seattle’s Agua Verde rents kayaks in addition to serving Baja-style Mexican food. Some of my favorites are their mango quesadilla, veggie burrito (with sautéed yams!) and their Mexican Chai. This warm beverage is like traditional chai tea, except they use horchata instead of hot water. This is a great way to warm up after paddling around in the Northwest.

2.) In Chicago, brunch doesn’t mean having something light to tide you over; it means shoving as much food in your face as possible since you’re skipping a meal. And with M. Henry, Ann Sather’s and Orange, Chicago has no shortage of tasty brunch spots. Orange’s menu runs the gamut from cute (their appetizer fruishi, fruit presented to look like sushi) to bizarre (complimentary water flavored with cucumber might be good with a salad, but not with breakfast) to delicious (everything else, it seems). Their award-winning dish is their Chai Tea French Toast, served in a chai tea latte reduction and topped with caramel apples and honey. This rich and filling brunch is not for sissies.

3.) Being that I am neither a coffee drinker nor a screenplay writer, I am not a man who hangs out in coffee shops. (Were it not for my love of hot chocolate and apple cider, one might think me a hater of warm beverages.) But if more coffee shops were like Kopi in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood, I might have a change of heart. Their atmosphere is colorful, worldly and comfy—I’m told this is the Californian approach to coffee shops—as opposed to chic and lodge-esque—which, no thanks to Seattle, is what coffee shops are like everywhere else. The dessert menu at Kopi includes two favorites: frutti di bosco, a short Italian cake with ricotta whipped cream (think cannoli) and topped with berries, and their Chai Milkshake. As I mentioned in my review of Haagen-Dazs’ Sweet Chai Latte ice cream, chai lends itself better to being a milkshake than hard ice cream because the smoother texture better reflect the essence of chai. At Kopi, you can taste the proof.

New Flavors: Häagen-Dazs Class of 2011

Häagen-Dazs makes a product regarded for its elegance and simplicity. Conversely, their major nationwide competitor, Ben & Jerry’s, is known for ice cream innovations that are both fun and loaded with mix-ins. For the most part, each company’s new products conform to these signature brand traits, just as Häagen-Dazs has with one of their new flavors, Sweet Chai Latte. Over the past 10 years in America, chai has progressed from being exotic and obscure to being a recognizable part of the warm beverage lexicon. Less common than coffee or espresso, but more common than say, I dunno, absinthe, chai is a perfect flavor for Häagen-Dazs to add to its palatable palette of flavors.

The second most notable feature of Häagen-Dazs is their “all natural” approach to ice cream. (For those keeping score, for Ben & Jerry’s it’s their values-driven business model.) While the best example of this is their Five series, most of their products have a minimalist approach to ingredients and avoid artificial flavors. The major exception is their mix-ins; while used sparingly, mix-in ingredients aren’t exactly straight from mom’s kitchen. Two of the other new flavors exemplify this by choosing recognizable (but less common) flavors and taking the “all natural” approach: Blueberry Crumble and Caramel Apple Pie. Both ice creams have bases that use actual fruit and include mix-ins of fruit and pastry crust. These flavors make sense with the Häagen-Dazs brand: Caramel Apple Pie for its classic appeal and Blueberry Cobbler for their elegant treatment of an underutilized ice cream flavor. All of this realized, I will explain why each of these flavors, whole tasty, were not fulfilling in the way that I hoped.

Certain flavors are more about the experience and are better served out of the pint. When I pay superpremium ice cream prices (which I’m grateful to do) I want the complete package, not a dessert condiment. Blueberry Crumble would be better next to a cobbler, either that or served closer to its melting point (or even slightly melty) on cake cone. And though blueberry is delicious year round, it is best in the summertime. The other major strike against blueberry ice cream is how the intensity of fruits fade with increased freezer time and mass production. (No manufactured blueberry ice cream will compare with the batch I made this past summer using blueberries that were picked the previous week.) Sweet Chai Latte would be better as a milkshake because a smoother texture would better reflect the essence of its namesake; it certainly would be preferable to impatiently fighting the hard pint of uninterrupted ice cream with spoon.

As for Caramel Apple Pie, I’ll cut to the quick: I have never had an apple ice cream I liked because they always have an artificial apple flavor, even Häagen-Dazs’ all natural apple ice cream. The trick is using apples as a mix-in—Well-done Häagen-Dazs!—but having them in a brown sugar or light (light!) caramel ice cream. For those willing to hunt it down, an even better alternative is apple cider sorbet.

While my first taste of each of these flavors was less than memorable, I will admit my opinions change. (Last year I named Boston Cream Pie my favorite of Ben & Jerry’s new flavors, but it has since been overtaken by Milk & Cookies.) It is conceivable that I will return to Blueberry Crumble and not just because I am so rarely in possession of fresh blueberries. The crunchy/crumbly mix-ins in both this flavor and Caramel Apple Pie, while a step away from Häagen-Dazs simplicity, adds the much needed textural diversity these flavors need.

Your best bet: Try them for yourselves!

2nd Annual Pi(e) Day Pot Luck & House Concert

My mom and I share a love of Clint Eastwood-directed films, singing and comfort food. So after I threw my first Pi(e) Day party last year, she decided to throw her own this year: chicken pot pie, mini-quiches, apple-berry pie, key lime pie and chocolate Andes mint freezer pie were on the menu. She also fully embraced the science of the holiday, printing out many (many) songs about pi. My favorite was “O Number Pi,” which was “O Christmas Tree” with different lyrics.

Over in Central Time, my 2nd Annual Pi(e) Day Pot Luck & House Concert noted the holiday’s scientific origins only in so far as we consumed round foods. Delightfully, I continue to make new friends who are bon chefs. After last year’s only-one-savory-pie-for-the-first-90-minutes fiasco, we started with shepherd’s pie, Spanish pie (frittata), chicken pot pie and, later on, mini quiches. And then the desserts came rolling in: blueberry pie, cherry pie, peach pie, spring-form pan cheese pie (cheesecake), four (Count ‘em: 4!) budget fruit pies in a bag, whoopee pies, fudge pecan pie and, my personal favorite of the evening, strawberry kiwi pie. In non-pie foods, there were chocolates and a cobbler that made an excellent breakfast this morning. Attended by over 30 people throughout the evening, everyone ate to their heart’s content while enjoying the music of Brad Brubaker & The Crowd Goes Wild and Dawn Xiana Moon .

This year no pictures were taken because my stomach and I had other pie-orities.

Not just a Sufjan Stevens song.

I was almost too ravenously excited to document photographic evidence.

Last night, I made the trek to the library only to find the lights off and the doors locked. The sign said the library was closed in observance of Casimir Pulaski Day. Without missing a beat I boarded a bus and went to the grocery store. Hmm...That might not seem like a logical progression of events. Let me start over.

In Illinois, the first Monday of March is when we all pause and reflect on the contributions and sacrifice of Casimir Pulaski, who…excuse me while I look this up on Wikipedia...“is known for his contributions to the U.S. military in the American Revolution by training its soldiers and cavalry.” And for doughnuts. His contributions to Polish doughnuts, or paczki are unmatched. Let me start over.

In Illinois, the first Monday of March is when we all celebrate Casimir Pulaski Day by eating Polish doughnuts. Paczki are similar to other bismarcks (round doughnuts with filling). Traditional fillings are "Powidła (stewed plum jam) and wild rose hip jam" but Jewel/Osco only had strawberry, Bavarian cream and raspberry.

Time to get learned: “In Poland, pączki are eaten especially on Fat Thursday (the last Thursday before Lent). Many Polish Americans celebrate Pączki Day on Fat Tuesday (the day before Ash Wednesday). Traditionally, the reason for making pączki was to use up all the lard, sugar, eggs and fruit in the house, because they were forbidden to be consumed due to Catholic fasting practices during Lent.” Thanks Wikipedia. You’re welcome, Brad.

“But Brad! Doesn’t Chicago have the highest concentration of Polish people other than that found in Poland? What if I don’t live in a geographical locale with a sizable Polish and/or Polish-American population?” While I doubt you’ll be able to eat paczki, I will invite to indulge your aural senses. Come on and feel the Illinoize!

Breast Milk Ice Cream

This concept first entered my world in 2008 when PETA wrote a letter to Ben & Jerry's urging them to explore this untapped natural resource. Now, for Freudian fanatics everywhere, the dream has come true and is for sale. This product is from London's The Icecreamists, who when I last reported were being threatened with a lawsuit from the Sex Pistols frontman.

Chicago Blackhawks Ice Cream: Phase 2

What is Chicago Blackhawks ice cream? As far as I know, no such flavor exists outside my kitchen. Pictured is Phase 2: a sour cream strawberry ice cream with mini-Oreos, marshmallows and craisins. Each of these ingredients have a symbolic purpose to them. Allow me to explain.

As there is no right or wrong to what makes Chicago Blackhawks ice cream, I have been polling my friends for suggestions. Most have immediately jumped to thoughts of the team colors, most prominently red, black and white with accents of yellow and green. But, as some of my friends have also realized, hockey is more than team colors. Hockey is ice and pucks, hence the mini-Oreos. Hockey is blood and teeth, hence the marshmallows and craisins.

You may notice many similarities to the ingredients that were in Phase 1, but I dropped the red and green sugar crystals in Phase 2. While they played up the team colors, on this sour cream strawberry ice cream they look both childish and nauseating which is not my goal when making ice cream. I mean, I’m not running a Cold Stone here. (Zing!) On a different note, I enjoyed the rough, gritty texture of Phase 1’s chocolate cookies and cream, but team colors are still important. The red of strawberries mixed with Oreos and marshmallows is a combination I will revisit even if this flavor does not become the definitive Blackhawk ice cream.

Suggestions for Phase 3? Leave a comment.

Reasons to stay indoors

Some locals called it Snowmageddon. Others called it Snowpocalypse. I called the waist-high tunnels of frozen precipitation a reason to make hot chocolate.

Lucky for me, I had recently discovered some Perugina hot chocolate mix from my Italy trip in the back of my cupboard. For a boxed mix, this was thick, rich and fantastico. But for those of you that haven't been to Italy recently can stock up on grocery items to make your own hot chocolate. This recipe I got from a friend is exactly how I prefer it: like a thin fondue.

2 cups whole milk
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup cocoa powder
6 oz chocolate chips (semi-sweet)
1 tsp vanilla

Mix all of the ingredients together in a sauce pan over medium heat with a whisk until everything is melted together and hot. It's that simple.

Sometimes we must venture out.

It snowed again. The previous day's slush caps refroze and had their peaks dusted with white. The shape of the frozen slush reminded me of the doughnut holes my mom would fry up for us when I was growing up. Perhaps I am the only person who would look at a wintry scene and think of doughnuts covered in powdered sugar and bubbling hot oil. Regardless, these thoughts of fried dough made my morning commute warmer.

Step 4 to Becoming a Chocolate Connoisseur

One of the best ways I fill my time is volunteering at 826 CHI, a creative writing and tutoring center that publishes student work, where I tutor there once a week and teach creative writing workshops. I recently read the 826 CHI Compendium Vol. 2 (published 2010) and found inspiration: one of the creative writing workshops had its students participate in a chocolate tasting and wrote about what they found evocative. I will attempt the same, first giving my initial reaction, followed by a simile of what feeling the chocolate brought to mind.

About the chocolate: Parisian chocolatier Michel Cluizel ranks in the tops. According to his website, Cluizel is “one of the rare chocolate manufacturers to process cocoa beans.” I tried a spectrum of 9 small squares of Cruizel’s chocolate, each a different percentage of cacao. The only ingredients are cocoa, cane sugar, whole milk powder, cocoa butter and Bourbon vanilla bean.

99% - I think we all have memories of tasting the baking chocolate and how we were introduced to expectation vs. reality. The bitter hits early and has no relief of sweetness to follow.
Like getting lost on your way somewhere and when you finally get there, people are mad at you for being late.

85% - Everyone has their preference. I usually go no higher than 70% cacao. This was surprisingly nice. It reminded me of the chocolate one tastes in mole sauce with just that small touch of sweet.
Like when you’ve been playing a team sport and you get a water break; it’s enough to fight off the burning without extinguishing it.

66% - Sourced from a single plantation in Venezuela. It was the most fascinating. I didn’t enjoy the flavor at first, but then was introduced to its depths.
Like sitting in Krispy Kreme back when smoking was allowed indoors: tobacco, smoke, coffee, but with enough of a breath of sweetness to find the high worth chasing.

65% - Sourced from a single plantation in Madagascar. The beans seem naturally sweeter at the start with a brick-oven aftertaste.
Like when the water you’ve been wading in starts to feel comfortable.

64% - Sourced from a single plantation in Papa New Guinea. Bitter, rich and long-lasting. My favorite.
Like listening to your latest obsession while owning the dance floor with your s.o.

60% - With cocoa nibs. Sadly this square had bloomed—it had that chalky whiteness that indicates the cocoa butter had come to the surface. It was also more brittle. I found it odd that the chocolate would bloom since all the pieces were kept at the same temperature.
Like discovering the DVD is missing from its case after your friends have already come over for the movie night.

50% - Sourced from a single plantation in Madagascar. This was the lowest cacao percentage with any robust richness to it. Milky with bite.
Like a shy first date that ends with a knockout kiss.

47% - Sourced from a single plantation in Papa New Guinea. Delicate, sweet, appealing for its nostalgic qualities, but left me feeling empty. Also a little nutty flavor.
Like listening to a pop hit from yesteryear with today-colored lenses.

45% - I don’t think milk chocolate is his specialty, but milk chocolate also isn’t my preference. This was milky with a slight memory of malt.
Like how a carnival ride feels when your biggest crush rides with her friend instead of you.

You, too, can read the 826 CHI Compendium and their other publications. Or consider donating in support of their free in-school and after-school programming.