Adobo Cheddar Bread

     Think spicy.  Think cheesy.  Think delicious.  If you think those three things you would have this bread.  I found a recipe for No-Knead Three-Cheese Semolina Bread at King Arthur.  At the bottom there was a variation using cheddar cheese and a can of Adobo.  My plan for bread immediately changed from three-cheese to this variation.  I thought about my husband, the pepper belly, and I knew I had to make it for him.  The whole time it was baking, Wayne was anxiously awaiting for the timer to go off.  I think it was almost torture for him to wait for the bread to cool and take the photos before he could taste it.  It was a big hit with him.  We had some with dinner, and after dinner he had another slice.  That was the slice that made him go for the milk.  This bread has a wonderful peppery heat to it, as well as a nice cheesy flavor.  Unlike the recipe on KA, I used a medium cheddar.  I think a pepper cheese would have put it over the top.  The bread had a beautiful rustic look.  You could see the roasted peppers and melted cheese all over the bread.

     Spicy always reminds me of our trip to Avery Island at least 25 years ago.  The smell of Tabasco wafted through the air at the production facility.  The salt mine was a reminder that not that long ago geologically this area was part of the sea.  A visit to the Tabasco County Store gave us the opportunity to see many Tabasco products we did not existed, but the best part was the Jungle Gardens and rookery.  The site of thousands of egrets and herons was amazing.  You need to realize that I have seen egrets for all of my life.  When I worked at St. Bernard High School, there were mornings when the trees in the swampy area would be covered with hundreds of egrets.  Avery Island made that seem like, "Oh, look a couple of egrets."  In the spring Avery Island is a glorious place to visit - Spanish moss draped Live Oaks, azaleas, camellias, alligators, kingfishers, and, dare I say it - the dreaded mosquitoes.  When you visit, be sure to bring mosquito spray.  You'll be mesmerized by the stunning natural beauty of the area.

Brioche King Cakes

     The Epiphany has come and gone, but to a New Orleanian that just means it's time for King Cakes.  This week I made the recipe for "Rich Man's Brioche" from The Bread Baker's Apprentice.  It is an extremely rich,  light, buttery bread that would be wonderful on its own, but I used it as the dough for my King Cakes.  I divided the dough into three equal pieces to make 3 King Cakes; each King Cake a little different from the other two.  One King Cake is a brioche ring topped with purple, green, and gold sugars.  The second King Cake has cinnamon sugar, topped with a white glaze and sprinkled with the sugars.  The third is filled with almond paste and slivered almonds, topped with sliced almonds, white glaze, and the trio of colored sugars.  I told Wayne choose one for tasting tonight, and he chose the almond filled King Cake.  I am almost at a loss for words as to how good it was.  The King Cake practically melted in our mouths.  It was a ring of soft, tender, buttery, moist, flavorful deliciousness.  Wayne said it was the best King Cake he has ever had, and I hate to brag but I have to agree.  It was a little taste of heaven.  For a little more information about Mardi Gras and King Cakes check out the following link Short Mardi Gras & King Cake History
     King Cakes evoke many memories, but the one I remember most was a memory from my mother's childhood.  My mother was a child of the depression.  She was one of seven children: Malcolm, Alguinaldo, Antonio, Soulita, Dolores (my mother), Louiska, and Rosita.  For those of you who don't know about King Cakes there is a small plastic doll in it.   The person who gets the baby is supposed to buy the next King Cake.  When my Aunt Rosie was about 10 years old, one of  her classmates brought a King Cake to school.  Aunt Rosie got the baby, and she held it in her mouth all afternoon because she knew her parents could not afford to buy one.  As adults they would laugh about it, but I'm sure when it happened there was nothing funny about it.
     When I was a child I knew of only one kind of King Cake, a simple brioche ring from McKenzie's Bakery (no where near as rich as the recipe I prepared).  It was sprinkled with purple, green, and gold sugars.  There was no icing, no cinnamon, no filling, no braiding, but I remember it as being pure delight.  On the Monday before Fat Tuesday my mother would make her pilgrimage to McKenzie's.  She would buy soft hamburger rolls, Mardi Gras donuts, and a King Cake.  The rolls were for our ham sandwiches.  The Mardi Gras donuts were small square donuts with cinnamon sugar; they were for breakfast.  The King Cake was for munching on through the day.  There was also the annual burning of the peanuts.  Every year my mother would buy raw peanuts to roast, and every year she would burn them.  We would leave early in the morning and go to my Aunt Rosie, Uncle Carney, and cousin Linda's house.  We would pile into Uncle Carney's car and to St. Charles Avenue.  We would be there from the time Pete Fountain's Half Fast Walking Club until the last float of Comus would pass.  By the end of the night we were all tired, full of junk food, with bags full of treasures that we caught by yelling, "Hey, Mister, throw me something," and ready to go home.
     Way back then everyone costumed on Mardi Gras Day, and people were out for a day a family fun.  No one showed their tits for cheap beads.  People could enjoy parades without fear of violence. It was truly a magical, majestic time.  And joy was found in little things like a slice of King Cake.

Ciabatta

     My ciabatta came out pretty good.  I was hoping to have some bigger holes in the finished product.  The bread did have the chew that a ciabatta should have.  I have decided that I need to buy a breadstone,  I have done my research, and I have my eyes set on one at King Arthur.  It's a large, rectangular and made in the United States.
     My mother was a huge advocate of buying American.  This sometimes made buying her a gift a little difficult; do you know how hard it is to find clothing or other merchandise made in the United States. Start looking at labels.  One year we had a tee-shirt made for her with an American flag that read, "Buy America, Put America Back to Work."  She wore that shirt everywhere.  In 1993 Wayne and I went to Vermont where we found the perfect Christmas gift for her.  It was hand crafted in the United States.  We had it shipped home.  It was in a large box, and it would drive her crazy trying to figure out what it was.  When Christmas finally arrives, she ripped off the wrapping paper.  Everyone was waiting to find out what the mystery gift in the large box was.  When she opened the box, she started laughing and exclaimed, "They got me a cow."  There was a store in Vermont that had cow lawn decor.  The cow was a wood cutout, stuffed, covered with fake fur black and white cow spot fabric, that staked in the ground.  My mother had that goofy cow in her yard several years before it fell apart.  One of her neighbor's was always threatening to steal her cow.  One day, she looked out the window to see a stray dog having his way with her cow.  She was so upset, I thought she was going to have a cow (sorry, I couldn't help it).  Even though my mother died several years ago, I still find myself looking for products made in the USA.